Heart of Steel
by LadyAriaa
Summary: A late night errand turns out to be less that routine when Steelbeak is sent to collect a stange boy of mysterious intent. Will an impulsive decision to save the child get him killed? Or will the strain of fatherhood get to him first?  Steelbeak/OC


Author's note: Holy crap I finally posted a story that's NOT Bushroot/Liquidator slash O.O You should all be proud of me x) So anyway I've had this first chapter sitting around for MONTHS now and finally decided it was way past time to finish the damn thing. So here's some Steelie love for all you good people out there. Cause he just doesn't get enough love. First time really trying to write for him though so his accent may be off sometimes :p I'm not used to trying to catch all the differences so I apologize in advance for any mistakes on that. Also this will be M eventually and will be slash eventually. Cause let's face it, that's what I do. So yeah, enjoy!

Oh! And I almost forgot, the real name that I will be using in this story was taken from stories by Roamingtigress. I just liked it and she said I could use it so I did x) But yeah, not mine.

Disclaimer: I do not own Darkwing Duck or any of its characters. If I did the show would be a hell of a lot more perverted… and gay. I made no money off the writing of this. Don't think so anyway… yep, still broke.

Warnings: some swearing, some violence and eventual gay sex.

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><p>The bitter taste of the blood that filled his mouth was more an annoyance than anything else. The various bruises hardly even registered at all; he was far more interested in how exactly he had managed to let himself get into this position. How the hell could let that bumbling, egotistical, sorry excuse for a vigilante get the upper hand?<p>

"Just give it up Steelbeak! Your merciless machine of murderous intent is finished, your lackeys have abandoned you, and you don't even have a weapon to defend yourself with!" the self-assured annoyance boasted.

The agent in question grinned evilly, spitting a repellent mix of blood and saliva onto the hard cement with a sickening splat. He regarded the do-gooder in front of him briefly as he paused to catch his breath. Despite the big talk that was characteristic of the hero, he was in far graver shape than the kneeling FOWL agent. There was a great laceration across his chest, leaving his trademark outfit in less than impeccable shape. His face supported a nasty black eye and a harsh slash, courtesy of Steelbeak's ruthless bill, that extended from his forehead down to his cheek.

Steelbeak couldn't help the loud obnoxious cackle that tore from his throat at the picture the short duck presented. Darkwing grimaced at the sound, eying the villain irately. He really hated that laugh.

"Yeah, sure. Surrenda'," Steelbeak snorted, breaking out in laughs again as he pulled himself from the ground smoothing his suit in the process (not that it would ever be the same after their little scuff anyway) "I'll get right on dat. In da meantime would ya mind if I get dis suit cleaned? I'd soo 'ate ta get t'rown in prison lookin' dis shabby." The tone of his voice seethed sarcasm, grating on the already irritated vigilante's last nerve.

"Oh don't you worry beak face, there will be plenty of time for you to primp and do laundry behind bars." The second round of laughs that the comment produced only served to worsen Darkwing's mood, causing the mallard to shake with rage. He hated being mocked. And he _really_ hated that laugh. It didn't take long for the continued cackles to prompt the crime fighter into his usual course of action. "Suck gas," Darkwing growled, narrowing his eyes at the perturbing rooster and effectively stopping the snickers.

Steelbeak shielded his face instinctively as the other pulled the trigger but the continuous clicking sound that soon filled his ears alerted him that something must have gone awry. His eye cracked open as he looked back to the purple-clad duck who was pressing furiously at the trigger on his gas gun. Steelbeak could practically see the explosions going off in his brain, and it amused him immensely. He smirked at the frustrated duck crossing his arms smugly across his chest as he watched the show.

"Ah, any time dere Dark babe. I ain't getting any yunga ya know," he snickered.

Darkwing clenched his teeth in annoyance, tugging at his collar in a mix of fury and embarrassment. Several silent moments passed as he tried to figure out exactly what he could do. The larger bird would easily beat him in a pure match of strength and he knew it (his current wounds attested to that).

"Yeah well, this is juuust part of… my magnificent plan to distract you! Yeah!" he said proudly.

Steelbeak cocked an eye at him, momentarily dumbstruck. It didn't take long for the cackles to resume as the situation suddenly grew entirely too comical for the agent to handle. "Ohh, ya' dat's a good one Darkwing," he snorted as he regained his composure "And ah, what preciously was youse plannin' ta do once I was all distracted?" he managed to question through his snickers.

"Well I was planning to… ah," Darkwing hesitated trying to avoid the self-satisfied gaze of the other.

"Yees?"

"To, to… eat gas gun evil doer!"

The surprised look barely had time to plant itself on Steelbeak's face before the gun collided harshly with his metal beak. The impact was surprisingly powerful, bringing the large fowl to his knees as the pain spread through his already sore beak. He could feel the metal of the gun scrape against the similar surface of his bill, hooking onto the slightly distorted steel and prying an already loosened plate away from the marred beak that lay beneath.

"Ahh! Ya bastad!" He yelled angrily as he gripped the sore area with both hands, feeling at the jagged metal. He growled furiously as he felt the exposed natural beak that was usually hidden beneath the sleek silver surface.

The despicable sensation snapped a rarely broken cord, tearing the large bird from any sense of reality. A brutal inner instinct took over, and Darkwing saw it. He gulped nervously, backing away from the menacing agent slowly, arms outstretched as though it would keep the other at bay.

"Now Steelie, you wouldn't mess with… with… an unarmed man," he cringed at the resulting scowl of the other, "Would you?" he finished pathetically.

Steelbeak growled gutturally in response, snarling at the other in an obvious testament to his fury. His threatening form forced Darkwing further back as he approached, wild gaze fixed on the weakening hero.

Just as the tattered duck was deciding to rally the rest of his strength for an all-out run, the familiar screech of tires and chaos permeated the alleyway. Steelbeak's crazed stare was finally torn from the prey in front of him as the headlights of the bike lit the surrounding space. Reality hit the agent hard as the Ratcatcher collided with his side, knocking the large bird to the ground and cracking his wounded face against the rough cement.

Darkwing clutched at his chest breathing heavily as the dust cleared. He couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped him at the sight of the unconscious agent only a few feet away. He really didn't want to think about what would have happened to him had his ever-loyal sidekick not crashed his way to the rescue… not that he would admit that.

"What did you do that for Launchpad?! I had everything completely under control," Darkwing griped, jamming his fedora back on his head with a poorly hidden wince.

"Gee DW I just thought you could use some help is all," the sidekick in question stated as he pulled himself from the wreckage.

"Well, you thought wrong didn't you," he retorted swaying slightly as he attempted to move forward "I was just about to put an end to this perturbing poultry's pilfering… before, uh… something," he ended lamely putting a hand to his spinning head.

As his unsteady feet faltered, he avoided a harsh meeting with the ground only thanks to the support of Launchpad's strong arms.

"Uh, you _sure_ you don't need any help there DW? You don't look so good," the faithful duck questioned with concern.

Darkwing groaned in response rubbing at his sore head. His entire body was spent and there just wasn't much he could do about it. "Well… maybe just a smidge," he replied reluctantly, allowing his friend to put a helping arm around his shoulders.

The two doers of justice were too distracted by the urgency of Darkwing's own injuries to register the fact that they had yet to do anything about the wounded agent. Had the rooster been conscious, he might have considered it his lucky day.

* * *

><p>It was hours before Steelbeak woke, roused only by the cooling drops of rain that had started to fall from the grey sky. He groaned in a mixture of exhaustion and fury as he moved himself sluggishly into a sitting position. "Goddamn, do-goodin', sonsa…" the rooster muttered agitatedly as he fished in his filthy suit for a cigar. What he found was hardly in pristine condition, but it would do considering the state he himself was in.<p>

After a few hits of the fine smoke, Steelbeak managed to convince his stiff body to stand, but it took a moment to steady himself and register where he was through his hazy mind—the collision with that bike was sufficient to put the agent in fairly severe shape. Once he finally realized what side of town he was on he knew right away where he could go. He set off away from the pile of metal and parts that was formally known as the Ratcatcher, a noticeable sway to his normal strut. _No way she'll toin me down,_ he thought to himself with as much of a grin as he could manage.

The short trip seemed to stretch out far longer than it should have, especially with the misty rain soaking Steelbeak's already cold and exhausted body. He could have practically cried for joy by the time he reached his destination. The simple brick house was exceptionally unassuming from the outside. Its textured walls touched the buildings beside it as did many of the homes nestled within the center of the metropolis making it seem more cramped than it really was. Steelbeak sighed in relief at the welcome sight of the crimson red door. If anyplace was like a home to him outside of FOWL, it was here.

He put his cigar out quickly as he ascended the stone steps; he knew too well that she refused such pollutants around her air. His slightly trembling digits made him curse internally at the icy air as he reached for the door. The cold metal of the knocker felt particularly frigid as he grasped it between his fingers. It would be winter soon. Steelbeak hated winter.

The few moments it took for the resident to open the door felt like an eternity to the bleeding rooster. He couldn't stop the dizzy feeling from invading his head; he was surprised he had made it even the short distance there.

Steelbeak forced a smile onto his sore face as he tried to focus his blurry vision on the bird before him. "Hiya gorgeous," he whispered hoarsely, "Did youse miss me?"

The playful greeting was all he could muster before he passed out from his injuries. He was lucky the colorful bird before him was tall and in good shape otherwise it would have been unlikely she could have supported the large rooster.

She held him well enough that she could lower them both slowly to the floor where she rested the weary agent's head in her lap. She sighed indignantly at the unexpected entrance of the other. "Nice to see you too lover boy," she said softly, stroking her well-manicured fingers gently along his comb. She couldn't help the smile that spread itself along her beak. "Of course I missed youse."

* * *

><p>A soft groan was Steelbeak's only response to the sunlight that assaulted his face. He threw an arm over his head to try to shield himself from the obnoxious rays. The resulting throb in his temples seemed to remind him of the current situation he was in. He shifted the arm sluggishly off of his forehead, cracking one eye open so that he could be sure of where he really was. Sure enough the space he saw through his hazy vision was one he knew all too well. The room was impeccably elegant with feminine touches that gave it a gentle feel without being all that girly. Hints of silk and gold embellishment shimmered in the morning light, lending a strange but lovely shine to the immaculate and sophisticated surroundings. It was all very much as he had remembered it.<p>

_Dat goil always did 'ave good taste,_ Steelbeak thought, grinning smugly to himself at the self-flattery. After his cursory inspection of the room assured him that he was in a safe place, he focused his gaze on assessing his condition. He could see that the various cuts along his arms and torso had already been cleaned and bandaged. Even his beak had a large gauze pad attached to it. Although he knew that there was nothing she could have done to repair the damaged metal, he was grateful that she knew him well enough to cover the deformity.

As he tried to lift himself into a sitting position, his less obvious injuries made themselves known. He hissed quietly as a sharp pain ran down his entire right side, making his arms quiver slightly as they lifted his body from the soft bed. Steelbeak sighed as he managed to swing his slender legs over the side of the mattress, sitting still for a moment to try and stop the throbbing in his side. He looked down at his feathered chest, moving the plumage aside so that he could inspect the skin that lay beneath. A slight scowl settled on his face as he followed the already-forming bruise down his abdomen. _Dis betta' not show t'rough my feathas. _

The inspection suddenly came to a halt as Steelbeak heard the soft sounds of footsteps on the stairs just outside the closed door. Despite the less than favorable state he was currently in, he couldn't keep the large grin off his face as the home's owner finally entered the room. Lolakeet Cockatiel: former informant and favorite performer of FOWL's most elite. The stunning parrot was literally a sight for sore eyes. Her multicolor plumage was practically shimmered in the sunlight, the greens and blues painting a spectrum of gorgeous color as she stood there, her elegant demeanor lending a strangely tangible sense of perfection to the entrance. The slight sheen of red in her wavy auburn hair was accentuated beautifully in the light. Steelbeak couldn't help but stare at the way it framed her lovely face. Her long and well-kempt tail swayed from side to side slightly calling attention to her well-formed hips and making it very difficult for Steelbeak to keep his eyes from roaming down her form to appreciate how exquisite she still was.

"Bout time youse showed dat beautiful face," Steelbeak said, suavely as he could, gentle grin spreading across his injured face.

The tall bird rolled her eyes at him as though to remind the agent that his smooth talk was useless on her. "Tsk, Tsk Steelie. Flattery will get you nowhere," she said, her tone mildly teasing.

Steelbeak chuckled slightly before he became more serious. "How are ya Lolakeet?" he asked gently.

"Oh my, I'm just peachy Valentino darlin'. No need to bother your busy self with little ol' me," She said in obvious sarcasm.

"Ok so I ain't been 'ere in a couple months Lola. Look babe, dat don't mean—"

"Two years Val," she whispered, cutting Steelbeak off before he could offer an excuse.

"Really been dat long, eh?" Steelbeak muttered, rubbing a hand over his comb.

"Yes Steelbeak. It has really been that long. Two years, five months, and an odd number of days. But really, who's counting?" the level of hurt in her voice was poorly hidden behind her smooth and well-spoken tone. Steelbeak suddenly felt like he'd kicked straight in the heart. Somehow he'd always taken it for granted that Lolakeet was too strong a person to ever miss him.

"Aw come on babes don' be sore at me. Youse know I'm no good at comfortin' goils."

"No your expertise lies more in making them miserable," Lola replied harshly.

Steelbeak's face fell at the comment; sure, he knew it was true, but it was somewhat unsettling hearing it out loud. Lola sighed heavily at the despondent expression; as irritating and self-centered as her flashy companion usually was, if anyone was capable of understanding his more emotional side it was her. She put her hands on her hips, her gaze a mix of affection and irritation. Steelbeak couldn't help but smirk at the amusing look on her face. The reemergence of the bird's usual cocky self was enough to coax a poorly resisted smile onto Lola's face. She sighed again as she finally gave up trying to be mad at her long-time friend, making her way gracefully over to sit beside him on the plush bed, swiping her long tail out of the way gracefully as she did so. The gentle brush of the soft plumage against his slender thigh sent soft trembles along Steelbeak's spine, the familiarity in the sensation causing an undeniably pleasant feeling. Delicate hands gripped his beak gently, tipping his face to each side to investigate the bruises and small cuts littering his face.

"Well you look less like a train wreck at least," Lolakeet finally said, stroking his cheek feathers fleetingly as she removed her hand. "You'll have to excuse my shabby work darling. I did the best I could given my unfortunate lack of medical aptitude."

Steelbeak's smirk grew at the statement, a toothy grin replacing the cockeyed smile. "Well I've 'ad betta' but it'll do."

"Ohh you're really a keeper, ya know that Steelie."

Steelbeak huffed sarcastically as though that was the most obvious thing in the world. "Oh youse don't gotta tell me that doll face. 'Ave you _seen _dis 'ansom mug lately?"

Lola couldn't help but smile slightly at the way the other waggled his eyebrows and stroked his chin as he said it. Despite the amused smirk, the slightly annoyed look behind it was enough to make Steelbeak realize the irony of his statement. He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly in a rare moment of embarrassment. "Heh, sorry."

Lola sighed at the apology, shaking her head slightly as she tried to keep from smiling again. "Oh stop Steelie, compunction does not become you." In spite of her playful tone, she smiled sincerely at the agent to assure him that he was forgiven. "Never could stay mad at you anyway," she muttered under her breath.

Blue eyes glanced at Steelbeak when he didn't answer. The grin he was giving her was a mix between elated and impish that was strangely irresistible. Lola rolled her eyes unable to keep from giggling softly at the display. "What am I going to do with you Valentino?" she asked with a smile, shaking her head slightly.

"Jus, gimme a ride will ya Lola? Dere's a certain someone dat's due for a social call."

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><p>The all too familiar complex gave the agent a strange sense of security. It was a place where he could always feel in control. A place where he knew he was important. The long, empty halls of the lower levels were silent save for the soft sound of his shoes against the tiled floor. Few had reason or the desire to visit the perpetually shaded basement, but there was one resident that he could always count on to be there. His feet carried him instinctively through the twisted maze; he could walk those halls blindfolded. There was only one destination that was ever on his mind when he ventured this low. Steelbeak paused for a moment before the pale, windowless door. Room 0009. There was no place in the complex more familiar, or comforting, to him. The dingy and worn name plaque beside the door was faded to the point that it was nearly impossible to read, giving witness to the extent of time the doctor it named had been a resident in the seldom used lower levels. The still groggy agent didn't bother knocking before he entered; he knew all too well that the announcement would go unnoticed by the room's occupant.<p>

The familiar sounds of the countless machines within greeted Steelbeak with their various beeps and whirls, but the inhabitant that he was interested in was nowhere to be seen. He shifted his eyes around the sterile, equipment-laden room in search of his quarry. "Doc?" he questioned into the semidarkness, "You in 'ere?" It was a silly question. The resident doctor was always there.

A loud crash of metal against the hard floor prompted Steelbeak's gaze to the back of the room where he knew the space connected to several other areas. The abrupt clash was followed by the muffled swearing of the volatile medic. Steelbeak couldn't help chuckling at the string of obscenities that filtered through the door as he strode toward the back of the room.

He leaned up against the wall beside the steel door, knocking softly against the smooth surface. "Oh Docta' dear," he called, "Youse 'ave a patient dat needs attendin'."

The curses started up again as more bangs sounded from behind the door. "What is it?! I'm busy… Go away!" a harsh, yet still feminine, voice shouted from the storeroom.

"Now Docta' Dee, is dat anyway ta talk ta your fav-o-rite agent?" Steelbeak responded his voice laced with mock offence.

"…Steelbeak?" the doctor questioned, before snorting slightly, "I should have known it was you from the appalling English," she finished in slight annoyance.

"Aw, now why ya gotta hurt me like dat Dee?" Steelbeak said, his tone much akin to a pouting child, "Despite my rough 'n oh-so-sexy exterior I'm a sensitive soul doncha know."

"Huh," she huffed in reply, "yeah you're quite the delicate little flower ain't cha?"

The large agent rolled his eyes at this. If he wasn't so accustomed to the doctor's foul moods he might have been insulted. "Jus come out 'ere will ya?" he said growing tired of talking to the other bird through a door.

He received only muffled grumbling in reply. Despite the lack of answer, he could hear her putting away the different tools she had been working with. A smirk spread itself across his marred beak at the sound; no one could get Dee to drop what she was doing but him. The satisfied grin was quickly wiped from his face as the metallic door flew open causing it to forcefully collide with Steelbeak's already aching head. Sheer force of will kept the large rooster from falling to his knees at the pain it produced.

"Alright Steelbeak what do you…" Dee cut herself off, searching around the room for the other. "Val?" she questioned, her irritated tone shifting to one of inquiry at the apparent absence of the agent.

Steelbeak glared at the short duck harshly, hands still rubbing at his abused beak as the door swung back. It took only a few seconds for Dee to notice him standing beside her. "Oh, there you are. What are you doing back there?" she snapped, her tone scolding, as she moved further into the room.

"Oh, notin'. Jus waitin' ta get smacked in da face," Steelbeak mumbled grumpily, "Again."

"Don't mumble. You know I hate muttering," Dee continued to discipline as she moved around the room turning on the various florescent lights overhead. It took a few moments for her to look back to where the rooster was still standing. "Well don't just stand there. Get over here so I can patch up whatever ailment that you've managed to come up with this time," she said, motioning for him to come closer.

"You jus too sweet Doc," he replied, moving towards the exam chair near the still bustling duck.

"Only for you," she replied distractedly as she shifted through some of the many papers littering the lab, "So what can I do for you this fine day Valentino dear?" she continued, finally turning her full attention to Steelbeak.

"Got a busted plate I need ya ta fix for me," he replied, dropping himself into her exam chair with a strange amount of grace.

"Hmm, my, my," she mumbled investigating the horribly marred plate, "You certainly did do a number this time. What _have_ you been doing?" The cocked brow that accompanied the question attested to her genuine curiosity.

"Sorry doll dat's classified," Steelbeak replied, crossing his arms over his wide chest.

"HA! Well that just means you got your ass kicked," she snickered knowingly as she clamped the pliers onto the distorted section of the other's beak.

Steelbeak frowned, glancing crossly at the scientist beside him, "I wouldn't say dat…" he mumbled.

"Heh, now, now Steelie dear I was only teasing. No need—ugh … to be—affronted…" she replied between grunts as she tried to free the stubborn piece of metal form the others.

"Youch! Easy dere Doc! I want you ta _replace_ the plate not tear m' face off!"

"Hmm," she muttered, tapping the defiant steel plate with her pliers, "I get the feeling this is going to take something with a bit more oomph to remove."

Steelbeak didn't like the sound of that. Knowing the doctor as he did, something with more "oomph" could very well mean bad things for him. Dee threw the pliers onto one of the lab tables as she shuffled back to the room she had come from to produce said instrument. Steelbeak swallowed nervously as he heard the sound of various devices being moved in her search. Sometimes he wondered if the moody scientist really had his best interests in mind.

After a few moments of searching, Dee returned with a substantial looking pry tool clasped in her hands.

Steelbeak cocked an eye at the tool snapping his nervous gaze up to meet her eyes. "Ya sure you know what ya doin', right babes?" he asked with an edge of skepticism in his voice.

"Pfft," Dee replied, flipping her hand at the uneasy fowl "No worries hun, I'm a professional remember."

Steelbeak couldn't help but swallow nervously at her less-than reassuring tone. Sometimes he wondered about her level of professionalism. He jerked his face in an instinctively defensive action as she came at him with the devious-looking device. She grabbed his head as he continued to shift, pressing it against the headrest to keep him still. If he hadn't been so accustomed to being smacked by large tools when he lashed out at the small, yet surprisingly feisty, doctor, he surely would have snapped his beak at her.

"Don't you dare snap that piece of hardware at me Valentino," she muttered as she latched the tool onto his face, "If you didn't keep messing with my wonderful feat of modern science we wouldn't have to go through this every few months."

Steelbeak grumbled in the back of his throat at the comment. He hated when she exaggerated like that. He very rarely had to have the hunk of metal repaired and she knew it. Normally he just disturbed her for basic medical attention. Steelbeak never did care for the other doctors employed at FOWL. Injury had always been a source of disquiet for him and it was difficult for him to view any visit to a health professional as anything but a source of weakness. Weakness had always been unacceptable.

He had to resist the urge to complain at the harsh yanking produced by the prying that was forced on his beak. Of all the talents Dee possessed, tenderness was not one of them. She grumbled irately under her breath as the plate continued to refuse being separated from the cracked bill that lay beneath. It took several long moments of torture before the metal finally came loose. Steelbeak sighed in relief as he felt the bent bolts finally give way and free him from the disfigured plate. Normally he would have hated having anyone see his face in such a state, but Dee Ancola had seen him in far worse states before. The ugly bill was no mystery to her.

"Finally," Dee huffed as she placed the rebellious piece of steel to the side. "Now we can fix that beautiful face of yours. Not to mention everything ELSE you managed to damage," she finished lifting a brow at the agent just to let him know that she had noticed the injuries he had neglected to mention.

Steelbeak chuckled slightly at the comment. Mood swings and volatile behavior aside, he knew Dee genuinely cared. "Youse really ah too sweet ta me Dee," he said sincerely.

"Yeah well, who else would be willing to constantly patch up your sorry hide?" Dee replied teasingly as she rummaged through one of her many disorganized drawers for the extra steel plates she kept handy just for him.

Steelbeak grinned, reclining lazily in the chair as he waited for her to return. When she finally came back, his relaxed attitude quickly changed as the new tool in her hand reminded him that the next step was going to smart some. He grit his teeth in preparation as Dee lined up the plate that had been pre-shaped to fit where it was needed. She moved swiftly to bolt the metal in place. The scientist was all too aware that having to put new bolts in the top plate always hurt somewhat.

As expected, the pressure of the bolt being forced into the bone at the top of his bill sent a dull throb through his already sore face. A small grunt was the only indication Steelbeak gave that he had felt the pain. He was more than willing to bare the small bit of suffering to have his namesake intact again.

"There you are dear," Dee said, patting the metal beak affectionately, "Now let's investigate the mess you've made of yourself, shall we?" she finished as she fished a pair of gloves out of the pocket of her lab coat. Several pokes and prods later, Steelbeak had been diagnosed with five fractured ribs, a minor concussion and a massively painful bruise that would stretch up his entire side by the morning. As much as Steelbeak enjoyed dropping in on the resident scientist, he was looking forward to getting back to his penthouse and sleeping his vacation time away. Unfortunately for the worn-out agent, his plan was about to be interfered with. No sooner had Dee finished her examination of her favorite patient then the large screen on the side wall flickered to life with three shadowy figures. Three unknown faces that the irritable scientist could very well do without. If she had a choice, that is.

"Doctor Ancona," the middle figure called impatiently into the secluded room, "Kindly inform agent Steelbeak to get over here."

Dee rolled her eyes at the statement. "Tell him yourself. I _know_ you can see him," she snapped in reply. She never did like when High Command actually had a reason to interrupt her solitude. There was a reason the antisocial scientist kept to her secluded, underground realm.

Steelbeak jumped quickly from where he had been perched on one of the many counters, moving over to stand in front of the screen. "Yah I'm 'ere HC. Ah, wha can I do for youse?" Steelbeak said hurriedly to keep his dear friend from getting into trouble (not that it would be the first time).

"There's something we require you to… pick up for us," the shaded duck replied in an oddly suspicious tone.

Steelbeak had to hold back a sigh of relief at the instruction. He had been sure they were looking for him to enact punishment for his recent failure. "Yeah, sure. Uh, what exactly?" Steelbeak replied, suddenly somewhat apprehensive of the midnight errand.

"It's not a what. It's a who. A young man that we… require."

"Ah kid? Whacha need 'im for?" Steelbeak asked curiously.

"That will be made clear to you in good time. For now all that we require is that you bring this young man to us. We've already sent the eggmen, but as _usual_ that have not managed to accomplish even the simplest of tasks. So since they have managed to lose track of a 13 year old boy, you will go retrieve him. And make sure he stays intact long enough for him to be delivered to us."

"Anythin' you say dere HC. But uh, where exactly am I supposed to find dis little menace?"

* * *

><p>Steelbeak hated winter. His teal tail feathers trembled slightly as he walked: an external sign of his distaste for the cold. Every minute he was forced to walk through the dark streets of St. Canard only made his mood worsen. He had met up with the eggmen hours ago and so far the search for their lost target had produced little in the way of results. He couldn't help but snicker at the memories of the condition he had found several of the underlings in. Whoever this random someone was he didn't give up without a fight. It was hard not to find their pain amusing when it was supposedly inflicted by a prepubescent kid. Despite the slight pleasure he derived from the eggmen's suffering, it didn't take long for the agent to tire of their presence. Steelbeak had finally broke off on his own, his still throbbing injuries and foul mood eliciting a rare need for solitude.<p>

An exasperated sigh sent out a puff of visible breath into the cold night air as the agitated agent continued his search. "Dey just don't pay me enough fo' dis crap," he muttered to himself. It wasn't true, but the complaining made him feel better.

Little could be heard through the silence of the night, the city seemingly dead in the darkness. The odd stillness of the surrounding metropolis was the only thing that made the soft sound audible. Steelbeak strained to hear where the soft noise had come from. It was difficult to make out exactly what it was due to its quite nature, but after a few moments he was finally able to tell what direction it was coming from. His path took him down a twist of shrouded alleyways, winding for what felt like miles as he tried to find the source of the sound. As he carried on, he was slowly able to hear the quiet noises more clearly. It was like a gentle whine, a muffled cry that sounded something akin to a small wounded animal injured and ready to attack. It was strangely eerie. The unsettling feeling that the noise prompted in Steelbeak coaxed him almost subconsciously into taking out one of his ever-present weapons for protection. The whole situation was growing more and more disconcerting as the night wore on and the already wounded agent was hardly willing to take any chances, even with a kid.

As he rounded yet another cracked and crumbling alley corner, he could hear the soft noises more clearly, assuring him that he was finally close to his goal. Steelbeak wasn't sure what made him stop, but there was an unnerving feeling deep in his gut that made him pause, resting his back against one of the cold stone walls as he listened intently to the nearby cries. He growled softly to himself, finally forcing his body to round the final corner, gun pointed and ready to unleash punishment at anything around the wall that would dare attack him.

What met his angry gaze shattered the perception of danger that he had prepared himself for. Steelbeak's jaw dropped slightly at the sight of the trembling silver form nestled amid the trash and broken bits of discarded clutter. Amongst the soft shadows cast by the few working lights in the alley, the shaking bird was barely visible. Somehow the display of shadows upon the small, hunched body only made the sight more pathetic. The slowly approaching agent's whole demeanor softened as he walked forward, the gentle sound of his shoes against the wet cement ground alerting the nearby child of his presence.

The trembling, cringing form shrunk away from the approaching shadow. Steelbeak lowered his gun, eyes glued upon the child. There was hardly a need for defense against such a helpless target. As he moved closer he could see the boy's face. Small, bloodied fingers gripped a gushing wound on his upper mouth, the shining fluid leaving crimson trails down his arms and chest. His tearstained face lead up to puffy eyes, the whites horribly reddened from excessive sobs. The harsh color contrasted warm, caramel-colored irises in a disturbingly beautiful disparity.

The small body shivered harder, pressing against the alley wall in an attempt to move away from the suspected danger. Steelbeak paused to regard the shaking child, trying to sort out his thoughts. His mind was suddenly swirling with an excess of memory, dredging up a barrage of emotion that he had long been in denial of: long hidden emotional scars all reflected in the terrified form before him. He was suddenly very unsure of what to do.

A gleam of color to the side gave relief from the recollections, bringing the agent's attention away from the boy and his thoughts. Steelbeak squinted at the object, trying to assess exactly what it was through the shadows shrouding the alley. He moved forward, curiosity peaked by the strange yellow shape. Interest soon gave way to repulsion as he realized what the object was. His stomach dropped as slender legs bent to pick it up from the ground, feathered fingers moving sullenly along the smooth surface of the detached beak. The tip was cracked, the once sharp end missing from a harsh impact.

Steelbeak swallowed hard to try to remove the sick, dry feeling from his throat. The object dredged up feelings of remorse that he was incapable of controlling. The memories he had been trying to ignore suddenly flooded over him: the sound of metal against hard stone, the haunting screams of anguish. His robust hand clutched the item tightly as he returned his attention to the quivering form not five feet away. He stepped cautiously towards the boy, trying not to startle him.

"S'okay," he said gently, putting out his free hand in a unthreatening gesture as the terrified child jolted away from him, "I ain't gonna hurt you."

Steelbeak couldn't even believe his own actions. What reason did he have to care? Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew what he was risking by attempting to help the child, the world of hurt that would be forced upon him if anyone were to know. But a deeper place inside him told him not to care. He crouched down as he came to stand in front of the boy, lowering his tall frame to keep from intimidating the already terrified boy. The soft feathered chest of the child rose and fell rapidly and irregularly as the wound continued to exude dark red fluid. Steelbeak could tell he was going into shock; he would be dead from blood loss soon if he didn't do something. But what exactly did he plan to do? Even he wasn't sure. He was acting on thoughts far beyond his sensible mind.

He reached out to the boy slowly, carefully watching his reactions. The small form trembled harder but otherwise didn't try to move away again.

"Not gonna hurt ya," Steelbeak repeated quietly as he placed his hand carefully on the boy's shoulder.

One of the small arms suddenly reached out so trembling digits could grip the well-tailored sleeve of the other's suit. The small, quivering appendage leaving sickly red smears on the silken white. The boy's other hand continued to grip the injury as he was pulled quickly into the large arms of the agent sent to capture him. Soft amber eyes slipped closed as the loss of blood finally took its toll on the small body. Steelbeak watched as the child began to slip away, his blood-stained fingers finally slipping from his sickly wound allowing Steelbeak the first real look at the injury. The urgency of the situation hit him hard as he stared at the bleeding jaw, abruptly tearing his gaze from the small frame and running for all he was worth in the direction he had come from. With any luck he could get the boy help before he was gone, but where could he go?

As he set the small eagle tenderly into the passenger seat of the car, his inner thoughts reminded him that there was only one place he could go. Only one person he trusted to help him. Only one person that really could help him. The screech of the tires sliced through the silence of the night as the back car speed away. '_Ang in dere little beak, _he thought to himself. He looked over to the motionless child, stroking the feathers on his sweat-slicked forehead momentarily before returning his hands to the wheel. _Jus don't die… Don't die._

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><p>Phew, well there ya are my lovelies: the long-overdue debut of chapter 1! And my poor little OC x) For anyone who is really interested in this story I'm sorry to say it is probably gonna get neglected for a while. Especially because of Screw the Bassist… not to mention all my other stories that need love :P So for people who may be concerned, Screw the Bassist is still my main story focus so no worries.<p>

Comments will be much appreciated. I'm interested to know if this will really be worth trying to continue.

Smooches!


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